The wedding of Renee O’Hara and James Palmer was about to be the most extravagant Cascade Falls had seen in decades—and it was bound to be discussed in detail, from the flower arrangements to the ushers to the gowns the aging bridesmaids would show off proudly for decades to come. It was a town wide event, and April hated that she was a part of it, that she hadn’t found a way to stop it. While her mom was happily hopping into the happiest day of her life—for the second time—April could barely get herself out of bed.
She wasn’t a bridesmaid. She wouldn’t be standing up in front of everyone alongside her mom as she said her cheesy vows to James Palmer. Instead, April, dressed in a fitted black midi with capped sleeves and a lace overthrow, would walk her mom down the aisle. She was going to give her away to that awful man; it seemed her life could never stop being one big ironic joke.
Since breaking things off with Van last week, she’d been in a stupor, moving listlessly from task to task, nodding and smiling as her mom prepped for her wedding day. She checked seating arrangements with the wedding planner, sampled all the food one last time, and ensured everyone knew precisely what they would be doing on the big day, even if they seemed like they were paying attention at the rehearsal. On top of all that, she’d tried her hardest to stay the hell away from James Palmer. No more nights in the guest cottage; she couldn’t stand smelling Van’s pillow or seeing his clothes and pictures.
After all, why would she need to see pictures? She had the picture of Van’s heartbroken face, followed by his bowed head and silence, floating around in her head most hours of the day and night anyway. She had all the images of Van that she needed, thank you very much.
“It’s just absurd and cruel that they couldn’t give him, I don’t know, a little break to come to the wedding,” her mom said as she sat in the hair salon, a stylist prepping her for the big day. April leaned on the counter, her simple, half-up-half-down style already complete, and folded her arms.
“You don’t get a break from prison, Mom.”
“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be nice to have the whole family here?”
Unable to come up with a response, April simply turned away and asked someone to touch up her nails, as if Van Palmer and his predicament were the last things on her mind. There was so much going on around her, and it should have been easy to stop thinking about him. Bridesmaids were having their hair and makeup done, along with manicures, and April was fielding calls from the wedding planner every ten minutes with little hiccups that would, she promised, be resolved by the time everything got started.
April, meanwhile, was always about ten seconds away from breaking down in front of everyone, her lips in a constant wobble, tears always just on the verge of falling. All she wanted to do was crawl into Van’s huge bed, hide under the covers, and pretend that none of this had ever happened. She wished it was still three weeks ago and that they were riding through the countryside together, up to the lookout to watch the oncoming thunderstorm of the summer beneath the little rickety shelter. She wished he was still holding her tight as the thunder rocked Cascade Falls, the very hills themselves rattling with each boom.
Instead, he was behind bars, awaiting a verdict she already knew the answer to; James had been too happy to share with her that the DA, who was in his pocket, was going to push for Van to serve out a light sentence in a minimum security facility near Cascade Falls. Once he was done serving his time, James gloated, Van would need to come back and work for James in order to make up for lost profits at the bar, which was bound to go under without him cracking the whip.
It was horrible. Disgusting. But what was she to do? Spill it all to the police and watch James worm his way out of trouble, only to turn around and punish her by hurting her mom, then April too? No. She had more sense than that—or so she liked to think. It was the only way she could live with herself after what she did to Van that day at the county jail.
Once the ladies were made beautiful by the overpriced stylists at the salon near her mom’s apartment building, everyone was whisked off to the church to get ready for the ceremony. Most of the chatter was about the reception after at the resort. April’s mom had spared no expense over the food and drinks for the evening, and James had alluded to hiring some spectacular entertainment to keep everyone entertained. If the ceremony was going to be remembered for decades, the reception would live on in infamy for a whole lifetime.
April was the fastest to get into her dress, and rather than sitting around listening to the ladies babble to one another, she went out and wandered to church under the guise of checking on everything. It was all in order, as it should be. The wedding planner was top-notch, despite her mom’s complaints, and April had every confidence that the wedding would go off without a hitch.
What a depressing thought.
By the time guests started arriving, April was desperate to hide somewhere. She couldn’t take all the pointless small talk from acquaintances who were here mostly to see what scandals they could find at the wedding of the decade. Very few of her blood relatives were in attendance; no one from her dad’s side showed except for a cousin, who April had met once years ago. Otherwise, her mom was an only child whose parents had died, and very few her West Coast relatives were willing to make the trek out to the eastern side of the country for a second wedding.
April couldn’t blame them, but she would have enjoyed their company.
Time moved unnervingly fast that day. After shooing all the bridesmaids out of the dressing room, her mom wrapped her arms around April’s shoulders for a heart-to-heart.
“You know you’re my number one person,” her mom said, kissing her cheek gently to avoid leaving a lipstick stamp. April nodded and gave a small smile. It wouldn’t be fair to be outwardly miserable to her mom on her big day. She had a secret that she couldn’t share, so why take it out on her mom? James’s cruelty seemed to be her burden to carry—or else.
“I love you,” was all April could muster after her mom went on and on about how marrying James didn’t make April any less of her daughter, and how Van was going to be her new son, but April was important too. It was textbook, and April smiled the way she thought she should smile, given the situation.
The wedding planner arrived shortly after, urging the two to join the bridal precession. Waiting at the back of the church as bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle together should have been nerve-wracking, but April felt… nothing. She was empty, unable to stop this awful situation from happening. Van was locked up. James was about to become her stepfather—and her mom would go on living her life with rose-colored glasses, unaware that anything was actually wrong.
At last it was their turn to walk. The music shifted. Everyone turned to admire her mom in the beautiful white dress that April had helped her choose. She forced a smile, knowing there would be pictures taken, and preferred to look at the folks in the pews than the man waiting for them at the end. All of this, in a way, was her fault. She could have put a stop to this weeks ago, back when the threats were first issued. She could have grabbed her mom and ran—straight to the police, out of town, wherever.
Instead, she let her fear guide her. Anything that happened from here on out was her fault.
James looked quite smart in his tux, and he accepted his beaming bride with more grace than April thought he could ever muster. He looked almost… happy, but then again, sociopaths knew how to mimic facial expressions. In that moment, James probably knew precisely how he ought to act. As he walked her mom up the last few steps, he glanced back and winked at April, and she was proud that she didn’t double over and vomit right there in front of everyone.
Numb, April shuffled over to her place in the front row, which was empty for the bride’s immediate family only. So, she was alone. Aware that people would be watching her, she clasped her hands together and set them on her lap, her knuckles white as she tried her best to keep herself together.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest began, his voice booming across the whole hall, “we are gathered her today to witness the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she watched, helpless and horrified, as James Palmer took the last piece of her heart away forever.